


Professional Indifference

by sheepishwolfy



Series: Casual Hookups AU [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Casual Sex, Clothed Sex, Coitus Interruptus, Frottage, Grinding, Hand Jobs, M/M, Maybe A Little Plot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, this is just... goofy smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-24 20:40:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20913767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheepishwolfy/pseuds/sheepishwolfy
Summary: Received April 21 2040, 18:52 ESTSender: Det. G.T. Reed, badge #3497Subject: nosubjectMessage body: wyd ;)———Gavin is house sitting, and what is he supposed to do? Be a good guest and have a quiet weekend? Of course not. He’s going to text his sometimes-fuck buddy Connor and see what happens.





	Professional Indifference

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chibbers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chibbers/gifts).

> this was meant to be a short prompt fill on tumblr and it just became... way too long and porny to post in full over there. 
> 
> the prompts were: A naughty kiss, Sharing a bath/swim, and getting caught in the act.

Last Connor remembered, the sun was still high, the living room cast in warm mid afternoon light. He had been halfway through his book. Dispatch radio off, cell phone set to silent, for once not on call or waiting for news on a case. No appointments or meetings or social calls. A rare quiet afternoon completely to himself.

Too quiet, since he’d fallen asleep on the couch. Slipped easily into a (much needed) stasis cycle without even realizing it. Sprawled sideways, one arm and one leg trailing onto the floor, mouth open. His jaw clicked when he shut it, shoulder rotors shifting oddly and causing temporary errors to bloom in his peripheral.

An additional notification blinked beneath the yellow-framed warnings about entering stasis with his limbs in sub-optimal positions. Sitting up, flexing his misaligned chest plates, Connor dismissed the errors and brought up the notification. A text message, from one of three contacts he’d set to automatically forward from his cell phone when he slept. The reason he’d woken up at all.

_ Received April 21 2040, 18:52 EST_  
_Sender: Det. G.T. Reed, badge #3497_  
_Subject: nosubject  
_ _Message body: wyd ;)_

Connor rolled his eyes, minimized the text. Briefly considered ignoring the message altogether—it was Saturday, and they generally didn’t meet on the weekends. Even if they _ had _ met up on four out of the last seven weekends. That was only slightly more than half, and still counted as _ generally _ sticking to the agreed-upon rules of their…acquaintanceship, strange and tenuous as it was.

He plucked his phone from the coffee table, composed a quick reply. 

7:54 [C: Going to bed.]

Mostly the truth. He wanted to read some more, maybe watch an episode of _ The Botchelor. _Really, though, it was fun to make Detective Reed work harder than strictly necessary. Connor settled back against the arm of the sofa, flipped on the TV, and waited for a response. 

Two minutes later, the phone buzzed in his hand. As easy and efficient as it would be to do all of his correspondence via onboard relays, there was a tactile intimacy to manual typing that he found he enjoyed. A subtle thrill of the unknown when he couldn’t read a message instantly. Attempting to ignore the flutter of anticipation behind his regulator, Connor glanced down at the phone screen. 

7:55 [G: at 8pm on saturday?? boring af]  
7:56 [C: It is 7:56, Detective. Considering our line of work, I’d think you would appreciate a little boredom.]  
7:56 [G: lol fuck that]  
7:57 [C: Did you need something, or can I sleep?]  
7:57 [G: just thought u might like to know i’m home alone ;)]  
7:57 [C: You live alone, Detective. Unless you mean the cat has gone on vacation this weekend.]   
7:57 [C: Aren’t you housesitting for Officer Miller?]  
7:58 [G: fucks sake will u shut tf up and let me bootycall you, dingus]  
7:58 [C: I don’t know that it still qualifies as a “booty call” when we’ve been regularly engaging in sexual activity for four months.]  
7:59 [G: jesus christ]  
7:59 [G: this is like trying to fuck a college debate team]  
7:59 [G: u want your dick sucked or not, you obtuse motherfucker]

He chose not to respond immediately. Instead he fed his fish, changed his clothes, gathered his keys and wallet. Put on his shoes. Called a cab. It didn’t take sophisticated preconstruction software for Connor to imagine what Gavin’s face must look like while waiting for an answer. 

Annoyed, but only superficially. The scar on his nose pulling as he frowned, but his eyes crinkling as he tried vainly not to smile. Wouldn’t want to let on that he actually enjoyed Connor fucking with him at every opportunity. As if it wasn’t all a part of their peculiar little dance. 

Finally, as he stepped onto the elevator, Connor typed out his response. 

8:06 [C: I think we both know the answer to that question. 20 minutes, Detective.]

* * *

Located in a suburb of Detroit, the Miller home was a modern-vintage affair. Spacious, with a glass-fronted exterior and a sloped roof. Naturally shaped hedges flanked either side of the house, a tall privacy fence enveloping the back half of the yard. Gavin was sitting on the front stoop, smoking and thumbing through his phone when Connor’s taxi pulled up to the curb.

“Little more than twenty minutes, there, Timex,” he said, eyes still on his phone.

“There was an accident on the M1,” Connor replied, coming to a halt a short distance away. “Traffic was a bit more extensive than I anticipated.”

“You could’ve texted.” Dropping his cigarette butt into the empty soda can near his bare foot, Gavin stood. “I’ve been sitting out here for fucking… forty-five minutes waiting on you. My ass is asleep from the concrete.”

“How unfortunate,” Connor said. Stepping forward, into Gavin’s space, Connor carefully draped his arms around the shorter man’s neck. Strong hands went immediately to Connor’s waist, slid around and upwards, fingers just slipping under the hem of his shirt.

“Yeah it fu—”

Whatever faux-irritated reply Gavin attempted was muffled by a languid, lingering kiss. His protest turned to a wordless, _ almost _needy sigh, the hands at Connor’s back tightening, pulling their bodies flush together.

After a long moment Connor pulled back just far enough to speak, breathy words against Gavin’s lips. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said.

“No you’re not,” Gavin laughed, leaning in for another kiss.

Which Connor dodged with a smug smile, slipping from Gavin’s grasp like water through a sieve. One long finger traced the stubbled line of Gavin’s jaw as he passed, turning the detective’s chin to follow.“Maybe not on the porch?” 

Hot on Connor’s heels, Gavin smacked the back of his hand against the android’s narrow ass. “You fuckin’ started it.” 

“And I intend to finish it,” Connor said, smirking over his shoulder. A self-satisfied laugh as Gavin grabbed at his hip, pressed up against Connor’s spine and bit at the slope of his shoulder.

That sultry confidence was lost as soon as they stepped through the front door. They stumbled, Gavin colliding with Connor’s back when the android suddenly stopped walking. 

The interior of the house was as clean-cut quaint as the exterior, sleek furniture surrounded by all the trappings of a small family. Toddler toys and a playard next to the long leather sofa in the recessed livingroom; grinning family photos juxtaposed with stylish modern art. Connor recognized at least one Manfred original by the kitchen.

“Are you sure Chris is alright with my being here?” Connor asked, frowning at a portrait of Miller, his wife and infant son.

Strong arms snaked around Connor’s middle. “They’re not going to be back til tomorrow,” Gavin said, between open-mouthed kisses to the curve of Connor’s neck. “What Chris doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“I’d like to—_ ah._” Words failed as Gavin’s hand slid lower, fingers teasing just past the waistband of his jeans. The other pushed upward, to his throat, and Connor allowed his head to be tipped back onto Gavin’s shoulder.

A rumbling chuckle that Connor could _ feel _ more than hear, vibrating through Gavin’s chest against his shoulder blades. Teeth closed delicately around Connor’s ear, followed by a murmured, “What would you like, baby?” 

With colossal effort Connor managed not to just give in to the hands and mouth on his skin. “I’d like to mnh—“ Gavin’s fingers slipped lower, and Connor shuddered—“m-maintain a professional relationship with my colleague—”

An inelegant snort of a laugh, partially muffled against Connor’s shoulder. “_I’m _ your colleague, too,” Gavin said. He thumbed along the base of Connor’s rapidly hardening cock, grinning at the way the android twitched. “We manage to maintain a professional relationship, despite the fact my mouth has literally been on your asshole.”

“Yes, but—” more words lost to a hiss, when the fingers at his throat trailed down to the collar of his shirt. A sound uncomfortably like a whine escaped him when Gavin withdrew the hand in his pants, but it was only to tear at the snap and give himself more room to work. 

An opportunity to turn the game back to his advantage. Connor twisted in the loosened grip, pulling Gavin deeper into the house, away from the street-facing front windows. “But I have a _ good _ professional relationship with Officer Miller.”

Further argument was lost to a heated kiss, and Gavin’s fumbling attempts to steer them towards the guest bedroom. A tangle of limbs as they tried to yank each other’s shirts up at the same time, equally eager to feel the other’s skin. Bare chests and the wall next to the bedroom door were as far as they got. Gavin’s back struck the drywall, and rather than guide them somewhere softer, he plunged his hand back into Connor’s opened jeans, stroking him in earnest.

The android groaned, rocking into the tight circle of Gavin’s grip, slicked with artificial precum. His own fingers clutched at the low-slung waistline of Gavin’s sweatpants, the opposite hand tracing down the broad expanse of his chest. Stopping to drag the smooth pad of his thumb over the pebbled flesh of Gavin’s nipple. Then he pinched, tugged, and Gavin moaned against Connor’s lips. His hips jerked, seeking purchase, and met only air. The smallest brush of the back of his own hand, working Connor’s rigid length.

Gavin Reed was not a beggar. He did not, _ would _not, under most circumstances, beg for anything from anyone. But with Connor, and his damnable clever fingers everywhere but the one place Gavin wanted—needed—them, he almost plead. For a hand, a mouth, anything to bring some relief.

He _ almost _ plead… but didn’t. Would not give the android the satisfaction of any perceived weakness. Instead Gavin renewed his efforts, delighting in the throaty little noises Connor made with each upstroke. Attempted to pull Connor closer, angling his stance in search of any friction against his own achingly hard cock.

Connor felt the movement, the futile roll of Gavin’s hips. Reluctantly he pulled his lips from Gavin’s, glanced down at the generous swell of his arousal, the damp spot darkening the fabric still shrouding its peak. Not yet so lost to his own pleasure that he would neglect his lover’s, Connor moved to meet him, sliding his thigh between Gavin’s. A gasp at the sudden, needed pressure, his head thumping back against the wall. Then they were moving in time, rocking against each other with the rhythm of Gavin’s hand around Connor. 

It was almost enough, hot and close and urgent. The soft lining of his sweatpants, the hard expanse of Connor’s thigh pressed _ just _ tight enough… it was good, but he wanted more. To drag Connor the final few feet to the bed, or turn around and just let Connor fuck him right there, or, or, or...

...Or this. Another wanton sigh ripped out of him when Connor mouthed the base of Gavin’s throat, dragged upwards. An ungodly combination of teeth and tongue and suction against the sensitive skin beneath his jaw. Perfectly not-quite-painful, the way only Connor could accomplish. Coupled with the fingers still teasing and pulling at his nipple, the delicious drag of their still-clothed hips against each other, it was—Connor’s leg pressed fractionally higher—he couldn’t, yet, it was too soon, but if he wasn’t careful— 

“_Shit_, Connor!”

He came in his pants, untouched, like a teenager. Kept grinding against Connor as the android followed suit with a ragged gasp and a final stuttering thrust, spilling hot into Gavin’s fist. His forehead fell against Gavin’s shoulder, oddly cool breath ghosting across the thin layer of sweat on his heaving chest. 

“Your ass still asleep?” Connor asked, breathless. It was still strange to Gavin that androids, who didn’t actually need oxygen, were just as winded post-fuck as most humans.

“Definitely not,” Gavin said, panting, eyes slipping closed for a moment. 

Connor stepped back, but kept his hands on the other man’s hips. Whether to steady himself or Gavin was anyone’s guess. Lifting his head, reopening his eyes, Gavin was secretly pleased at how incredibly disheveled Connor was. Fucker was hot enough at work, all clean cut. But here, a little shaky, hair a mess, eyes half-lidded and unguarded?

Only Gavin ever saw him like this, and that was… something else. 

He straightened from where he was slumped against the wall, leaning in to kiss Connor one more time. Slowly, like on the doorstep when he’d arrived—and mostly to distract him from the fact that Gavin wiping his sticky hand on Connor’s jeans.

Mostly. 

“You couldn’t have just washed your hand in the sink?” Connor asked.

Fuck he was perceptive. “This was more convenient,” Gavin shrugged, grinning like an asshole. He fell back against the wall again, watching the android try to compose himself.

“For you, maybe,” Connor sighed. He tugged his pants up from where they’d begun to slide down his basically non-existent ass. “I’m going to have a… _ damp _cab ride home.”

“You don’t have to,” Gavin said, without thinking. Inwardly cringed. He knew what that sounded like. 

“What am I going to do, sleep on the couch and have an even worse cab ride in the morning?” 

“No, dumbass, Chris has a washing machine,” Gavin scoffed, thankful Connor had been less than amenable to the idea of staying over. Thankful, but maybe just the tiniest bit... disappointed. “Just quick wash your jizzy jeans and _ then _you can fuck off.”

“That would… be helpful, actually,” Connor said slowly. 

“Don’t sound so fuckin’ shocked,” Gavin laughed. “Sometimes I’m a nice, helpful person.” 

“If you say so.” 

“Eat a dick.”

“Maybe later.”

* * *

Narrow and assless, Connor was not built to wear Gavin’s clothes. Skin-tight on the broader Reed, the dollar sign-adorned boxer briefs sagged precariously on the android’s thin frame. How they stayed up at all was something of a mystery.

Static electricity, Gavin thought, watching Connor approach a leafy plant on a corner table, underwear dipping dangerously low. Maybe it was some kind of special android anti-nudity forcefield or some shit. Then the android bent slightly, and the useless elastic waistband slipped further, exposing a pale jut of hipbone. 

Maybe what kept them on was just sheer willpower, which Gavin found himself sorely lacking. There was half an hour on the wash cycle at least, another twenty minutes in the dryer… plenty of time to hurl himself across the room, and encourage those loose-fitting boxers the rest of the way down.

Then Connor picked up the potted plant and started to walk away with it.

“The fuck are you doing?” Gavin asked, lustful thoughts immediately derailed by petty larceny.

“Moving this spider plant,” Connor replied. “Obviously.”

“_Obviously,_” Gavin parroted. “Put it back!”

“It’s getting far too much sun where it is,” Connor said. He was kind enough to merely imply the _obviously_, this time. Shifting the heavy planter to the crook of one arm, he pointed to one of the long leaves. “See the yellowing, here? It needs more water, and less direct sunlight.”

Heaving himself off the sofa, Gavin said, “You can’t just move shit around other people’s houses, you fucking weirdo, just put it back where it was.”

“But the health of the—”

“Just, for the love of God, put the plant back where you found it,” Gavin said. 

“Well, when you see him, tell Officer Miller to put it somewhere shadier,” Connor said, reluctantly setting the plant back in it’s place. “Tell him to ask me, if he needs help finding a suitable location.”

”I can’t do that, he’ll know you were here.”

”...Oh.” Something like disappointment. Then he reached past the spider plant, drew the curtain just enough to shield it, even though the sun wasn’t up. 

Any lustiness left to Gavin was replaced entirely by an odd feeling of softness. Perhaps Gavin would find an excuse to move the plant, later. After Connor left. For the health of the plant, of course.

“Well,” Connor said, scuffing a bare foot against the hardwood. Awkwardness threatened at the edges. They never remained longer than a few minutes after a hookup. “Now I need something else to do while I wait for my clothes.”

“They’ve got a hot tub,” Gavin blurted. It seemed a better option than a sleezy _ I’ve got something for you to do. _

Connor tilted his head, eyebrows knitting briefly as he considered. “I’ve never been in a hot tub.”

Gavin gaped. “Really? _ Never_?” 

“The opportunity never presented itself,” Connor shrugged.

“You’re missing out,” Gavin said, grinning slyly. He sidled closer, coasting a hand around Connor’s waist to the small of his back. 

“From what I understand, it’s just… hot water,” Connor said. He barely maintained his cool demeanor as Gavin traced a finger down the line of his chest, circled around the visible edge of his regulator. 

“Hot water but like, _ sexy _,” Gavin said, with a goofy shimmy of his hips. A master of seduction. 

“I’m not particularly responsive to changes in temperature,” Connor said. He caught Gavin’s hand away before he could complete another torturous caress of his sternum. “Unless I manually adjust my sensitivity.”

_ Manually adjust my sensitivity._ Gavin filed that knowledge away for later use. “Well, the opportunity is here,” he said, tugging his wrist from Connor’s grasp. 

“Presenting itself?” Connor murmured, and Gavin rolled his eyes.

“You’re the fuckin’ worst,” he laughed, turning and starting away. He trusted Connor to follow. “The washer’s out back anyway, this way we’ll hear it stop.”

The hot tub in question was on the back patio. Despite the fence around the yard, the tub was still flanked on two sides by a tall, decorative wooden screen. Gavin started to step out of his underwear, and behind him Connor made an odd noise.

“It’s outside?” he said.

Turning, Gavin found Connor had stopped just inside the patio door. “Oh, what, _ now _ you’re shy?” 

“Public indecency laws are very serious, Detective.” 

Gavin looked pointedly at the fence, at the screen, then back to the suddenly nervous android. “Why do you think they even _ have _ an eight foot fence in suburbia?”

“To contain their two year old,” Connor said, flat.

“Okay, that too,” Gavin conceded. “No one is going to see you, sweet cheeks, except me.”

“‘Sweet cheeks’?”

“Just get in the goddamn hot tub.”

Spring had arrived, late as always, and it was still chilly at night. Goosebumps tickled along Gavin’s shoulders and bare cheeks until he sank into the warm water. Steam clung to the surface, wispy and thin. Connor hesitated a moment longer near the door, scanning the area in an unnervingly smooth single motion. Truth be told, Gavin sometimes forgot he was an android, until he did something like that. After all of their... extracurriculars, he barely even noticed the LED anymore.

At work was a different story. Hard to forget what Connor was, when he was all hard angles and cold professionalism. Connor’s words from earlier in the night came back to mind—_ I have a _ good _ professional relationship with Officer Miller._

Satisfied with whatever he found—or didn’t find, more like, Connor strode the short distance from the house. Borrowed underwear fell easily away, and then he was stepping down into the water, at the far side of the tub.

“Hey,” Gavin said, the seriousness of his tone surprising even to him. “Do you think we have a bad working relationship?”

Connor stopped halfway into the water, doe eyes wide. “Um,” he said, LED cycling rapid yellow. He blinked, glanced aside as though an answer might be lurking in the yard, then finished seating himself. “Honestly?”

“No need to sugar coat it,” Gavin muttered. The water was sure to turn brackish from the salt building in his chest.

“I think we have a non-existent working relationship,” Connor said, with a shrug. 

That was kinder than Gavin had expected. Somehow he managed not to frown openly. He had no idea why this suddenly grated on him.

“Which is a step in… maybe not necessarily the right direction, but _ a _direction,” the android continued. He propped an elbow on the edge of the hot tub, leaned his temple against his fist. “Considering where we started.”

Where they started. Gavin trying to kill him, failing miserably, with only another concussion to show for it. He shifted, suddenly acutely aware he was bare-ass naked and waist deep in a conversation that was uncomfortably close to _ heartfelt._

Gross. He crossed his legs.

“I guess we haven’t had a fight in the bullpen for a while,” Gavin admitted, a little sour. 

“It’s been… one hundred and thirty-two days since our last public verbal altercation,” Connor said. He didn’t add that, for 127 of those days, they’d been surreptitiously fucking. “Professional indifference seems preferable to racking up disciplinary actions on our personal files.”

“Hey, we’ve got—we’ve only got like two actual, official reprimands,” Gavin said, leaning back, folding his hands behind his head. “And those were early, yeah?”

“See? Progress,” Connor said brightly, and Gavin laughed. Small, mostly a huff of air through his nose.

A silence settled over them that wasn’t quite companionable, but also not _ completely _uncomfortable. Silence purgatory. Eventually, in an effort to bury how close they came to having a real conversation, Gavin asked, “So? First hot tub experience, positive or negative?”

The android looked down at the water, clearly unimpressed. “Neutral,” he said, with a lazy roll of one shoulder. “Kind of like sitting in a big bath tub, but bigger.”

The greenish light rippling up to the surface only made Connor _ more _ ungodly, inhumanly beautiful. Highlighting his high cheekbones, the graceful curve of his long neck. Gavin swallowed, tongue just darting out to wet his lower lip.

“Well,” he said, voice suddenly raspy. “Maybe we can improve it for you.”

Water lapped at the stone edges of the tub as Gavin flowed across it. Connor was already reaching out almost before Gavin moved, readily welcoming him into his lap. Kneading hands settled on Gavin’s hips, Connor’s own canting up to meet him.

“If this is _ professional indifference, _I’d like to see what happens with coworkers you actually like,” Gavin murmured, with a husky little laugh. 

“Play your cards right, maybe you’ll find out,” Connor said, smiling into a shallow kiss. He was already hard, rubbing in little jerks against the slowly stiffening length of Gavin’s cock.

“So needy,” Gavin teased, ducking his head to trail stubbly kisses along Connor’s smooth jawline. 

“_I’m _needy?” Connor scoffed. The tone was somewhat undercut by the mewling sigh he let out when Gavin’s tongue found the hollow of his throat. “Need I—hnn, need I remind you that you texted me this evening?”

Gavin pulled off Connor’s throat just long enough to breathe, “Semantics. Now stop fuckin’ talk—_ fuck._”

Connor’s hand wrapped around the both of them, a long, slow stroke. Gripping the edge of the pool, fingers scraping at the stone, Gavin thrust weakly into Connor’s fist, along the velvet-hard length of his cock. They were going to need to go inside, and soon—fun as it was, he didn’t want a repeat of the hallway performance.

“Jesus god, I want you to fuck me,” he hissed, leaning down to kiss Connor, to bite at his lower lip.

The android, insufferable asshole that he was, hummed a laugh and tightened his grip on both of their cocks. With the hand still on Gavin’s hip, he urged them into an easy rhythm. 

Gavin took back his earlier thought process. He _ was _a beggar, and he opened his mouth to do just that, to plead—

“Reed, I swear to _ fucking _god, you better not be fucking in my hot tub!”

Several things happened at once. The patio lights blazed on. Gavin leapt away from Connor as though he’d been electrocuted, tossing a wave of water over the edge and onto the ground. His dick retreated all the way up into his body, probably never to be seen again. Flushed vibrant blue to the ears, Connor repeated down into the water until only his eyes and the top of his head and his brilliant red LED were visible.

“Hey, uh—“ Gavin needed to clear his throat. He arranged himself as casually as possible against the rim of the tub. Chin in hand, pretending like his heart wasn’t about to slam through his rib cage. “Hey, Chris, I thought you guys weren’t gonna be back until the 21st.”

“It _ is _the 21st, jackass,” Chris snapped. “Who’s in there with you? That better not be some fuckin’ rando you picked up at Boot’n’Rally.”

Gavin glanced down at Connor, who violently shook his head and slipped totally under the water.

“I would never bring a _ rando _ here, bud,” Gavin said, waving a hand like Chris was just being _ so _silly. Beneath the water, he kicked Connor. Not hard, but beneath the surface the android shot him a pissy look anyway. 

“Come on out, sweetheart, you can’t hide in there forever,” Chris called, irritated.

“Oh, he absolutely can,” Gavin said, clicking his tongue. Again he looked down at his absolute coward of a fuck buddy, mouthed _ get up here,_ jerked his chin at Chris to really get the point across.

“Is that—Reed I will shoot you _ dead _ if you brought an android prostitute into my house.” Chris approached the hot tub, face creased with borderline rage. “You’re a cop, for fuck’s sake, you know that’s shit’s illegal now—“

“Why would I bring an _illegal _android sex worker here?” Gavin asked, honestly offended. “I don’t have to pay androids to fuck me, you know.”

“_Shut _the fuck up,” Miller hissed, jabbing a finger at Reed. Gripping the edge, he leaned over to look. “What android—or human—in their right mind would... oh.”

In the stunned silence that followed, Gavin said, rather smugly, “Told you it wasn’t a rando or a prostitute.”

At the bottom of the pool, naked as the day he was built, Connor gave a sheepish little wave. Miller lifted his hands, took several quick steps backwards.

“I’d appreciate if you could, uh… keep this quiet, man,” Gavin said. At his feet, Connor had covered his face with both hands. “If not for me, then at least for him.”

“You’re fuckin’ lucky Regina took the baby with her to get the dog,” Chris replied, still somewhat shocked. “My suggestion to you is smuggle him out before she gets back, or the whole station will know by midnight.”

Regina Miller was a forensics pathologist, and knew everyone in the DPD—not just central booking.

“Yep, will do,” Gavin agreed. The washing machine buzzed, and he winced. “That’s, um... that’s his shit in the wash, though. Don’t suppose we could run your dryer, real quick.”

“Why—no, you know what? I don’t even want to know. Give him some of your clothes and get him the fuck out of here,” Chris said. He turned on his heel and started away, muttering what sounded like, _ can’t leave you alone for twenty goddamn minutes. _

Settling back onto his seat, Gavin nudged Connor with his foot again. Slowly the android ascended, slicking his wet hair out of his face when he breached the surface.

“I can _ never _go back to work,” he said, distraught. 

Gavin laughed. “You’ll be fine. Chris is cool, he’ll keep it to himself. You _ do _need to bail before Reggie turns up. She’s been waiting years to get some dirt on me.”

“I thought you were friends with the Millers,” Connor said. 

“I am,” Gavin said, grimacing. “But…”

“But?”

“Well… okay, here’s the thing. To be fair, I was hungover, and it was like my second week as a detective,” Gavin started. Connor sat forward, his chin finally leaving the water. “I dropped an entire twenty-piece box of chicken nuggets directly into her carefully laid out blood spatter analysis.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.” Gavin reached out, and clapped a pruny hand on Connor’s shoulder. “So, we’ve all done embarrassing shit.” 

“I have to apologize to Chris,” Connor said. He started to sink back into the water, but Gavin caught his arm and hauled him closer.

“Get him some jacuzzi cleaner and an Amazon gift card,” Gavin suggested.

“At least now I could tell him about the pla—“

”Enough with the goddamn spider plant,” Gavin said, rolling his eyes. He glanced towards the house to be sure Chris wasn’t watching, then leaned in and kissed Connor quickly. “We could always go back to mine, or—“

“I’m going to go home and cease functioning due to shame.”

“Yeah… that’s fair.”

**Author's Note:**

> the urge was great to title this “Two Bros (Chillin’ In a Hot Tub)”
> 
> This is all part of a longer, casual hookups to lovers fic i’ve been ruminating on for a while now, and posted bits and pieces of before [on tumblr.](http://www.sheepishwolfy.tumblr.com) please feel free to follow me there for more nonsense.


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